Glass Memories
by DreamWalker18
Summary: Reality? Dreams? Memories? Spike comes face to face with his past and this time, it's not letting go. "Just as glass warps what we see, memories of the past change who we are and determine our fate. How has it changed you, Spike?" SpikexOC


_Yes. That's right. I'm starting a new story before I update my old ones. I'm sorry. BUT COME ONE PEOPLE! IT'S COWBOY BEBOP! I just finished watching the anime yesterday and I simply adored it! Everything about it was just fabulously done and the characters were astounding!_

Anywho... I'm starting this story called "Glass Memories" which, surprisingly, came from the first sentence is this story. This was based off Episode 5 Ballad of Fallen Angels. I'm not sure why, but I really enjoyed this episode and I felt that I could easily introduce my OC into the story this way. Please let me know what you think of it. It's actually rather short. I'm usually known for having rather long chapters but I wanted to try something different this time.

_~Please Enjoy~ _

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The glass clacked loudly, the remaining droplets of alcohol sliding down the sides of the cup.

"Isn't it bad for your health to drink it all in one gulp, Annie?" A lanky limbed man dressed in a worn blue leisure suit questioned, his slightly discolored brown eyes scanning over a page of the magazine he held, transfixed by the scantily clad women splayed across the centerfold.

"No. What's bad for my health is seeing you come back to life," the rather plump woman, Annie, replied haughtily, sending him a disgruntled glare as he flipped the page. "It's a shock to the system!"

"Hey, thanks for the warm welcome," the man replied, his gaze unfazed as he shoved his free hand into his pants pocket.

Annie let out a loud huff, pouring herself another glass, the amber liquid shimmering in the dim light of the deserted book store. "Why welcome the dead? It's all futile…"

"But I'm alive," he replied, a crooked grin spreading across his handsome features as he returned the magazine to the countertop nonchalantly.

"No you're not, you died three years ago," Annie's tone hinting at her bitterness towards those words. The man rested his elbow on the counter, leaning closer. "That's how things work around here…" She quickly lifted the class to her lips, draining the amber liquid from it as quickly as the first. The man watched her uncomfortably, his free hand reaching up to scratch his cheek, eyebrows raised in confusion.

He glanced around the desk, his eyes falling upon a slightly faded picture. His gaze shifted to the picture beside it, finding his own eyes staring back up at him through the frame. Beside him stood a stick of a girl with glossy dark brown – no, make that nearly black – locks tied up in messy bun atop her head, a few strands cascading across her pale porcelain skin. Her burgundy eyes shone with glee, her scrawny arm wrapped around his waist in contrast to his lanky arm thrown around her yellow, button-up dress shirt clad shoulders. They were both grinning broadly at the camera, their hair ruffled by a light gust.

How long ago had that picture been taken? Three, no, five years ago? He was torn away from his reminiscent thoughts by Annie's gruff voice.

"I know why you're here, Spike."

He glanced back towards her, muttering a quiet "Huh?" in surprise.

"You wouldn't have come unless you needed some information, something important, right? Well, I'll help if I can, but don't ask me too much," she looked away from him, avoiding his mismatched gaze.

"Anastasia…"

"No! Don't _you_ call me that! There are only two people who can use that name… So... What d'you wanna know?" She asked, turning her head away in defiance.

"…Mao Yenrai…" her eyes widened slightly at the mention of that name. "What happened to him…"

Spike eyed here carefully, analyzing her facial expression for clues as her hands began to shake. She opened her mouth to speak when the phone on the counter began to ring. Both pairs of eyes locked on it, one with a look of shock, the other with suspicion. It quickly clicked to voicemail, the automated message playing aloud for them to hear.

Then, a tired, sensual voice echoed from the machine.

"Hey, Granny. Yeah… I know, it's me… It's been a while since I last called… well, I suppose it's been more than just a little while." Nervous laughter echoed from the machine before the voice continued, a little more steadily. "Anyway, Gran, I called because I'm back in town." Annie shot up from her seat, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape.

"Now, before you storm off in a rage, hear me out. I've been travelin' around, looking for something… well, you know…" The voice cleared its throat uncomfortably before continuing.

"Anyway, I called to ask if I could crash at the house for the night, you know, for old time's sake. But, since you didn't answer the phone, I'm just going to head over and ask you in person. I won't be a bother, honest. Anywho… I'll be seein' you around soon Gran! Love ya…" Another clicked, followed by silence filled the air in the small store.

Suddenly, Annie leapt into action, quickly ducking into the back room, returning momentarily with a dust coated box which she quickly removed the lid from. Reaching inside, she pulled out a silver Jericho 941, thumping it onto the countertop before reaching back in to retrieve the box that held the pistol's cartridges. He took the gun from the counter, examining it closely before speaking.

"So, was that –"

"Who that was… it's none of your business anymore." She thumped down the box of cartridges before turning to look at the two pictures sitting side by side next to the cash register. "You know… I don't tell you what to do, but don't get tangled up with Vicious anymore, alright?" When he didn't respond, she sighed, slumping visibly. "Why am I talking to you? It's useless."

"Sorry."

"You've never listened to anyone in your whole life." She reached for the drink she'd poured herself, quickly downing it like all the others. "And on top of that, you're a stubborn show off! You think it'd kill ya to listen to your elders for once?" She sighed, shaking her head. "No, that's to much to ask for."

Spike cocked an eyebrow, his eyes closed, the makings of a grin settled contently on his face.

"About Mao…" Spike looked up, slightly surprised. "He had a lot of guys out looking for you. He was convinced you were still alive – Said he could feel it… No one could talk him out of it… So now, here you are, finally back, and Mao is…!" She began to pour herself another glass.

"Annie… I think you've had enough –"

"No! This one's for Mao!" She reached for it but Spike beat her to the glass. He motioned for her to pour another one.

"If it's for Mao…" he trailed off. They looked into each other's faces before she sighed and nodded, both of them downing the glasses. Placing her glass down on the counter, Annie sighed again.

The gentle jingle of keys came for the back door. Annie let out a squeak, nearly knocking over her and Spike's cups in the process of jumping up and grabbing Spike's arm. She quickly shoved him behind the counter, practically throwing the box of his weaponry at him before nearly tripping over herself in her haste to sit on her stool.

"Granny! Gran, are you here? Shit… I've gotta get out of these clothes. They smell like space shuttle…" A young, female voice could be heard muttering from the back room. The slam of the back door, followed by the incoming footsteps notified Spike that this girl was headed their way.

"I'm in the front room! Come here so I can get a look at my little girl!" Annie called, standing up and moving slowly around the counter. A pause in the footsteps before they continued, albeit a little quicker, before the girl finally entered the room.

"Gran! You're here! Did you just get back? I called a few minutes ago letting you know that I was headed home…" Her voice trailed off.

Annie gazed at the young woman, slightly awestruck by what she saw.

"…My god… My god, Lucia Lavinia Nym! Just look at you!" Annie rushed forward, eagerly embracing the lean brunette. "Goodness, child… Your hair! Why it's… it's…"

"Different?" Lucia offered, her once elbow length locks now styled in an un-styled, choppy cut that fell just a few inches below her studded ears.

"Well… Yes, different! And those clothes… Child, where on Mars have you been? Do you know how worried I was when I found your room empty, closet cleared out, bathroom spotless –!" The girl, Lucia, cringed slightly, her hands lifted in mock surrender, a familiarly crooked grin inching its way onto her face.

"I'm sorry, Gran. But if I had told you that I was planning on leaving, you would have thrown a fit!"

"Well, I'm throwing one now, even if it is nearly three years late! You are _**grounded**_ young lady! Do you hear me? Grounded!" Annie stomped her foot determinedly, her finger pointing menacingly at Lucia.

"G-Gran… I'm twenty-two… You can't _ground _me –" Lucia started tentatively, an exasperated and slightly confused look plastered to her face.

"Don't you _**dare**_ tell me what I can and can't do in my own house!" Annie bellowed. Quite suddenly, she grabbed the poor girl, crushing her in an overprotective hug.

"…Oh, Lucia… my little Lucia… I've missed you so much."

Lucia gazed down at Annie, her lips curving in an odd way that only hers could, a sort of lopsided frown.

"I… I've missed you, too, Gran."

After a moment of silence, Annie cleared her throat and pulled away, quickly swiping at her eyes. Lucia took this as a chance to glance around. She quickly spotted the bottle of alcohol and the two empty but used glasses sitting on the counter. Annie noticed too late that she'd left incriminating evidence in plain view. Lucia slowly crossed the room, her long fingers trailing over the countertop and stopping before the two cups, her eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Gran… I didn't know you'd taken up drinking again. And just by looking, it seems that you have a _drinking buddy_. Care to explain? I hope I didn't… interrupt anything." Lucia's words hung in the air ominously, her wine-red eyes trained on Annie before shifting down, towards Spike's hiding place.

Slowly, her left hand reached beneath her worn grey trench coat to where her own Jericho 941 was tucked snuggly into the back of her pants, resting squarely against the small of her back.

Spike could almost taste the tension in the air, his hand gripping the semi-automatic pistol, debating whether or not he should reveal himself.

"Alright. You got me. I'm coming out so don't shoot me, alright Luce?"

Lucia tensed. The voice from behind the counter was strangely familiar, strange only because she knew that the man to whom the voice belonged to had been dead for three years.

Slowly, two hands appeared, followed by a pair of arms and a mop of dark fuzzy hair, shoulders, and a torso. Leisurely, the man turned until he fully faced Lucia.

Spike let one of his signature grins slip onto his face. "Long time no see, Luce. How've you been?"

A sharp bang pierced the air, turning heads outside towards the closed shop, followed by an ominous silence.

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_Thank you for reading the first chapter! I'll probably update rather soon because at the moment, I'm on winter break so I have pleanty of time on my hands~ Please review and PM me and let me know what you think! Oh, and Lucia's nick name "Luce" is pronounced "Luse"... Don't ask. I've always wanted to name a character that and now that I have, I'm rather pleased~ I also just finished the anime Durarara! which was excelent as well! I'll probably be writing something based on that as well before I head back to school~ Please look forward to it! *bows*_

_Anyway, it appears that Lucia and Spike have a "history"! DUN DUN DUN! You'll just have to wait for the next update to find out what happens next!~ _

_~Kara~  
_


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